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buring ashes wet cheeks shaky hands your hand on my thighs tight lipped nightmares as I drift to sleep i see your smiles 1,2,3 7,8,9...... 12,13,14 tick,tock
I remember it like it was yesterday your smile your laugh if only I knew what you'd take from me maybe it was my fault maybe I could've stopped it but I now know it doesn't work that way
I'm in the hotel room contemplating my next decision voices in my head are fighting, all that happens is confusion left shoulder I have the devil to the right nothing is there
Dear my next lover, Hello. It is nice to meet you. I'm a virgin. I’m looking for the right person. Please, be gentle and kind. You have the be the right person.
I held a rose today I grasped its thorns aggressively My ring finger was pricked As if nature had told me, “She is far too exquisite to be tainted by those who do not understand
Do you remember me?
I was born abeautiful soul Church fathers called me an 'angel' Linguists used all words in the dictionary , So as to describe me both physically and mentaly For others i was too good to be true
Tinted yellow eyes lay on my bare legs. A sleep, fed; drink to many drinks. Roughly wrinkled hands clenched beneath my hips. Breaths, deep as his arms were. Vocals, tangled like his body above mine.
Look, there’s a reason they call us “survivors” and “warriors.” We wake up in the middle of the night, eyes staring into the glow-in-the-dark stars we pasted long ago and weep.
You pounded in me until I bled black and blue. I know your face, but not your name, though I will forever remember you. I will forever remember your bony white fingers and how they traced against my skin.
The party laying in bed on my phone Stoned drunk and not alone He comes in Normal conversation turns in to a invasion on my personal space A boob squeeze a ass gab His hand touch feels like the cold hardwood floors in the morning of winterI say no
Grimy slimy sticky I crawl out of my skin He touches me and flames ignite It burns like satan’s saliva that I swallowed some seconds ago;
From a young age, we female-bodied people are taught many things: That our worth will not depend on who we are inside, but instead on The size of our waists,
Self loathing for feeling like a king Inside a dream only meant for a kid Not only does your sharp tongue sting
Somewhere in America there is a teenage girl she's wearing her favorite shorts she is screamed at to cover herself because some boy may be distracted we say we frown on rape culture
Ridges on concrete make up the hands you possess The very same hands that changed my mind process Birds aren’t like the ones we saw one summer’s eve
Dear 10 year old me, Just because you got hurt does NOT mean you can wreak havoc on my life now,
I was fifteen and so naive,Didn't know any better,He was eighteen, and seemed so sweet,But he changed like the weather.
Two steps, quick look. Smile. Count two, three. Faded frown. Four, person number five; skip the next pace. Scour the hall; fearful to see his face. Imgine, still. Burning hazel eyes;
I’ve seen too many women crucify themselves for the wrongs others have dealt them.
Her body is a canvas , and they are the artists. They paint her greedily with their brush of lust. They leave her there to dry ,their artwork hanging like an old discarded object, slowly collecting dust.